Stranger

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Stranger

A Sonnet

No drab day this commencing with Thee,
A swirl of thoughts patterning Thy mystery.
Thy recurring motif of divine action,
To adharma uproot Thy intervention.

My eyes like windows on new worlds,
See air more lovelier for music it holds,
Even dust rises in worship lifting hued petals,
And music beckons in spectrum of calls.

A veil is removed and an outline grows,
Of a Stranger that only my heart knows.
My mind is blind and dumbly gropes,
For a clue in thought and memory’s stores.

But the soul remembers and whispers to heart,
“This is He thou pursuest, thou pursuest.”